


Red Roses, Red Roses

by meathermac



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Angst, Hanahaki Disease, Heavy Angst, I Made Myself Cry, M/M, Someone dies, and it's sad, and my beta cry, don't read if you cry easily, flower symbolism, i don't care, or do, very sad, wayyyyyy too much
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-03
Updated: 2018-01-03
Packaged: 2019-02-27 15:45:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13251402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meathermac/pseuds/meathermac
Summary: Lilacs and yellow tulips, anemone and begonia, every flower has a meaning.And yet, they all feel the same when coughed up with blood.





	Red Roses, Red Roses

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this in three hours don't judge me too heavily
> 
> THIS IS HELLA SAD JUST FAIR WARNING
> 
> blame @amusicaltrashcan if you cry

The thing is, Michael still knows the exact day and almost the exact moment that he started coughing up petals. 

It was only three or four the first time, but it scared him to death - and since he was fourteen, he didn't want to admit it to anyone. 

Google helped plenty, for once. Well, not Google exactly, but Tumblr had a pretty good grasp of why he was coughing up fucking petals - even if a lot of the site treated the disease (Michael discovered it was called Hanahaki disease) as a cool, not super dangerous thing. 

But it hurt like hell. It really did. 

There wasn't a cure, either. It was find a way for the person you love to love you back or…

Or die.

The petals were acacia blossoms and striped carnations at first. They looked less pretty covered in spit and blood than they did in the pictures on Google. 

He didn't want to know what they meant. Michael knew 

He knew who they were for. That's what scared him the most - it was a  _ disease _ that was going to force him to admit his feelings for his best friend, Jeremy, who was irrevocably crushing on Christine Canigula.

Michael hid it as best he could. It got harder, and harder.

 

In sophomore year, one of the more popular kids, Jake, found Michael in the bathroom, and although Michael was careful as careful could be, always trying to hold back the petals until he could go to the bathroom, and washing the petals away immediately, he got caught. Jake stopped him before he left. 

“The hell was that?” 

Michael tried to brush past him. “It's none of your business.” 

“Dude, you sound like you're coughing up a fucking lung. What's your deal?” 

“I gotta get to class,” Michael said, irritated. “Please.” 

“Not until you tell me what the fuck is wrong with you.” Jake winced. “That came out wrong. Are you okay?”

“No, I'm not.”

“...are you going to elaborate?”

“No. Come on, I have to get to class.” 

“Are you okay, at the very least?”   


“Yeah, sure. I’m fine. Will you let me walk -” Michael’s sentence was cut off as he went into another coughing fit. He turned his back to Jake and coughed up the flower petals into the sink. 

“Are those flowers? Man, what kinda fucked up thing did you eat?”   


“It’s not something I can control, Jake.”   


“Is it that hanahaki thing? Isn’t that fake?   


Michael wiped his mouth. “Considering there are flower petals and blood in that sink over there, I would say, no, it’s not fake.”   


“That’s insane.”   


“You can’t tell anyone. Got it?”    


Jake stared at him. “Michael - that is your name, right?”   


“Yeah, yeah, that’s my name. What?”   


“You’ve gotta figure this out, man.” 

“Would you stop calling me “man”?” Michael sighed. “Sorry, sorry. Please don’t tell anyone. Seriously, I can deal with this on my own. Just keep this one secret for me. Even though you don’t really know me.”   


Jake paused. “I guess. But you need to get that worked out. There’s blood on the flowers. There’s no way that’s healthy for you.” He sidestepped, letting Michael walk out of the bathroom. As he walked through the hallway, Michael glanced at his hands, which had dried blood caked on them. He sighed, shoving his hands in his sweatshirt pocket. He’d definitely have to wash it tonight. 

 

When Michael turned sixteen, he finally looked up the meanings of the flowers he’d been coughing up for two years. Acacia and carnations turned to yellow tulips and anemone, and they started to hurt more and more and more as the months passed. 

And he never told Jeremy how he felt. It didn’t matter much, though, because as long as he had the disease, Jeremy didn’t love him back. 

He was going to die. It was inevitable at this point. Jeremy didn’t love him back. 

At least nobody had ever found out besides Jake. And Jake, despite hanging out with the most asshole-y people in the school (including the boy that bullied Michael), kept to his word. He never told anyone. 

 

Chloe Valentine made up the rumor about the stoner boy who smoked during classes, who was addicted,  _ oh, what a freak, what a weird kid,  _ and Jeremy told him to shrug it off, that he was fine. Jake mouthed an apology to him in the hallway. 

Michael didn’t see it. 

 

Junior year brought the SQUIP, and the tulips and anemone turned into begonia flowers. 

Michael missed more than a week of school because he couldn’t stop coughing. He heard his moms waiting outside the door, talking in a whisper. 

_ Who is it? _ _  
_

_ Do you know?  _ _  
_

_ Will he make it?  _

_ I’m not sure.  _

_ What are we going to do? _

After a while, Michael stopped thinking about it. It was routine. Run to the bathroom. Avoid everyone else. Cough up the flowers, and the blood. Choke down the pain and don’t start crying. 

He saved all of his crying for nights, breaking down and wishing that  _ it would just end already, it hurt so bad, he was going to die so why not sooner _ over and over again. 

 

Michael found himself sobbing every night, crouched on the bathroom floor of his house, feeling sorry for himself. 

 

Jeremy found him in the bathroom at a Halloween party. He didn’t see the flowers. 

Michael had a panic attack afterward. 

 

His moms asked him who it was for. He said Jeremy and they looked at each other and sighed. 

He heard one of them crying later that night. 

_ Why Michael? _ _  
_

_ Why him?  _

_ How?  _ _  
_

_ Is there any way to stop it? _

Michael pulled the covers farther over his head. He’d long since stopped crying about it, and just started being numb.

 

Jeremy finally found out after the SQUIP had been deactivated. He was over at Michael’s house, they were trying to rebuild their relationship that had been destroyed by the SQUIP and everything it had done to their friendship.  

“Michael?” Jeremy pushed open the door to the bathroom slowly. 

“Jeremy!” Michael turned his back to the sink and wiped the blood from his mouth. “Hey.”   


“What’s wrong? Why is there blood on your face?” Jeremy stopped closer. Michael walked backwards. 

“I’m a vampire now, haven’t you heard?”   


“Stop joking, Michael. Are you alright? What’s -” He caught sight of the petals in the sink. “Hanahaki? For how long?”   


_ Three years. _ “Three months.”   


“Who’s it for?”   


Michael stared at the floor. Even now that Jeremy knew, he didn’t love him back. Michael could still feel the familiar tickle in the back of his throat of a flower. “You,” he said in the smallest voice possible. 

“M-me?”   


“Yeah.”   


“I don’t - I don’t like you like that. I could - I guess I could try to learn to.” 

Michael waved him off, despite the fact that his eyes were filled with tears from the mixed pain and sadness. “I know. If you did, I wouldn’t be standing here.”   


“What can I do?” Jeremy stared at him, almost like Jake the first time he’d been caught. 

“Nothing.” Michael smiled sadly. 

If he could admit it to Jeremy, then he could do anything. 

 

Jake started to tell people. Christine, and Chloe, and Brooke, and so on. 

Michael couldn’t breathe as well anymore. The flowers turned to withered lilies. 

_ Is he going to die?  _ _  
_

_ We don’t know.  _

_ Does anyone? _ _  
_

_ No.  _

Michael could barely talk. His moms had admitted him to a hospital, but the doctors couldn’t do anything. 

He hadn’t seen Jeremy in weeks. Reports from friends said he felt like the whole thing was his fault, and he couldn’t bother to see Michael the way he was. 

Michael didn’t blame him.

 

Jeremy sat down on the chair next to Michael’s bed. “Hey.”   


Michael just waved.

“I’m really sorry.”   


Michael shook his head.  _ It’s not your fault. I know you love me,  _ he wanted to say. 

“I - Christine and I, we broke up. It wasn’t working, we’re better off as friends.” Jeremy fidgeted with his hands. “I - I love you. You know that, right?”   


Michael nodded. 

“I wish I could fall in love with you. I wish I could fix this. I want you out of that hospital bed. I want to hear you talk again, laugh again, sing again, make fun of me, anything. Jake’s says he’s known about this for two years. You told me three months. How long has it really been?”

Michael held up three fingers. 

“Three years? How has it just gotten this bad?”   


Michael shrugged.  _ It does that. It gets worse, the longer it goes unnoticed.  _

“Michael, I’m so, so, sorry. I feel awful.”   


_ It hurts. Why does it hurt more than usual?  _

Jeremy’s voice was shaky. “I can’t say goodbye to you. But I can’t just magically fall in love with you.”

Coughs racked Michael's body. Jeremy looked scared and backed away. 

“Michael, Michael, are you okay? Michael!”

When Michael fell back onto the bed, he’d stopped coughing. 

He’d stopped breathing, too. There were bloody, wilted lilac petals strewn all over the bed. Jeremy called for the doctors, who rushed in and declared the time of death. 

 

Jeremy didn’t go to school for a few days. He wasn't sure if he’d ever stop crying. 

_ I did this.  _

_ Why Michael? _ _  
_

_ Couldn’t I have stopped it?  _ _  
_

_ Shouldn’t I have tried to? _

_ He’s really dead.  _

_ It’s my fault he’s dead.  _

_ How could I? _ _  
_

_ I loved him. That wasn’t enough? _ _  
_

He could barely function. 

For the rest of Jeremy’s life, there was a half missing. There were moments, brief little moments, where he forgot, but they rarely lasted long. 

 

_ Michael Mell.  _

_ 2000 - 2018.  _

Jeremy looked at the little sign next to the stone.  _ Please, don’t leave flowers for me.  _

He bit back tears. “Hey, Michael. Um, I hope you’re doing good. I wish I could have realized how much I would miss you sooner. I would have fallen in love with you in a heartbeat.

“Well, it says no flowers, but, uh, I have these red roses, ‘cause they mean I love you, and I really do love you. And, uh, I know you can’t really hear me, but I wish you could… I really miss you.”  __  
  


 

**Author's Note:**

> I WARNED YOU
> 
> acacia - concealed love  
> striped carnations - i wish i could be with you  
> anemone - various bad things  
> yellow tulips - hopeless love  
> begonia - beware  
> withered flowers - rejection  
> lilacs - death


End file.
